Doctor Who: Infinity
by Ravolox
Summary: This story tells the adventures of a future Doctor (Johnny Depp) who roamed space, past and future and now fights with thousands of dangers. The story is AU (and I don't own the original idea of this, only the English version is mine)
1. Fall of the Saint

**Author's note: This story is the translation of a Hungarian fanfiction so the original idea is not mine (the credit is Kenneth Whitaker's and G. R. Moss' for this chapter). I only was asked to do it but I had fun with it :) And every typo what's left is mine.**

**PS: Let me know what you think.**

An enormous crowd festered on the square to watch the burning of the heretics. Men, women and children shouted curse words to the man and his partner, pinioned to the top of the bonfire. They were pelt at with rocks or rotting fruits.

One of these impromptu bullet left an ugly stain on the Doctor's shirt. The Time Lord looked down at the people and shook his head pityingly. They were a young and superstitious species, he couldn't believe, how could they go more farther than he experienced.

"Doctor, do you have any plans?" Asked Mac, the young man who was bounded to his back. The blonde, cocky grinned man was found on the Wild West and was accepted as a partner because he helped to stop the bobvirathaians abstract the Earth's gold resources.

"I thought you have one," answered the man.

There were sizeable, whitewashed houses around the square and on top of them stood the king's mercenary soldiers and they observed the scene. It wasn't easy to escape from there.

The town was called Cadía del Sagrado.

"Maybe you could magnetise the rope with your screwdriver?"

"It seems, I didn't mention yet that my sonic unfortunately does not work on organic materials, such as wood, turkey and hemp. You said that you wandered Texas with the wild gang. Why didn't you hide a knife in your boots to cut it through?"

"I didn't bring it with me. You know that we came for a meeting. You said that we meet a good guy. We don't need any precautions."

"I expected that you'll be that hot headed again that you bring a weapon."

"Too well trained," replied Mac. "They could take a good cigarette into my mouth but these people can't do a normal execution here."

"Mac, think about that it is a deterrence and entertainment for the people."

The Doctor pitied that they needed to live in a dark era like this but he felt in the pit of his soul that he was prodded by the shouting crowd which was stinking with rage.

They only answered a call, the Doctor was looked for by an old friend. After they stepped out of the TARDIS, they were waited by the soldiers of inquisition. The Doctor realised that he was trapped and he also knew that he can't talk himself and this partner out of this situation.

The crowd became silent, the people stood aside from the inquisitor's path. He was a small, crummy man, his round face was covered by a black beard and his long hair was loosened. He smiled at them and turned to the crowd.

"He came from the sky, he told himself a saint," he started his speech, then pointed at the Doctor and Mac. "He protects the windrow, of course. "But they always stand in the way of the angels' plan!"

The man raised his voice. The Doctor listened to the speech, flabbergasted. Inquisitors never spoke about angels like this.

"I was going home once when my horse tripped and I fell off of it. I broke my leg and my horse ran away. I thought I die on the sun. Then came an angel, it kneeled next to me, gave back my life and told me about this Alien Doctor! It told me that he stands in the path of their plan and he needs to be cleansed out of this world!"

The crowd started shouting fanatically. The Doctor tried to escape, disentangle himself from the ropes but they were too tight. His twin hearts beat feverishly.

_'__Cadía del Sagrado…' _he thought when the executioner stood upon the pile of wood and sprinkled their clothes with paraffin then threw a torch near them. The flames started to spread within moments, the Doctor and Mac started to squirm wildly.

The smudge arrived to them within moments, before the flames. It went down the Doctor's throat, into his lungs which made the old man cough violently. He couldn't take a breath, he felt like his lungs weren't parts of his body.

"MAC!"

His partner didn't reply. His head hung down and the Time Lord yelled angrily when he was hugged by the flames. His hands started to glow with a yellow light, the shining went through his body…

_The Fall of the Saint_

He died, so did his partner. A man who he called his friend! He wasn't alive! The regeneration's energy precipitated out of his body, swamping and feeding the flames. The fire came into life. It sprung at the crowd and the houses. Their hay and wood roofs caught flames in seconds.

The inhabitants of the town tried to run away from the way of the flames, screaming, but the blaze chased them. Some of the people burnt to death or died from the smoke.

The Time Lord fainted.

The people's screams were the voices the Doctor's new incarnation first heard. When he opened his eyes, he still sat on top of the bonfire but he was completely intact. He felt that the regeneration not only healed him but it gave him a new, young body. He stood up and then saw Mac. The man's body was intact.

The Time Lord's mind was flooded with memories of a lot of adventures he lived through with him. The Doctor sank to the ground and shouted. The pain from his soul lacerated his senses then made him forget the past. From this point, he acted as a robot.

He lifted up his partner's body then looked around. On the places of the houses, there were only ruins, which were burnt black. Their burnt trees were standing out under the cinder like ribs of a wild animal from before history. If someone stayed alive from the population, they ran away and will never come back.

He carried out Mac's body from that inconsolable place.

He found an oil tree and next to it, a stream was flowing.

He made the young man a hole into the ground with his bare hands, below the tree. Then he kneeled next to the pile and buried his head into his hands. He only knew that he made a mistake and maybe he needs to be lonely through the rest of his life.

He looked at himself in the mirror of the river. He was looked back by a long haired man instead of the aging old man. It could be seen in his eyes that this new man was born from fire and death.

Came the night and the Doctor was still kneeled next to the pile and cried.

Then he was lighted by an arriving spaceship. It had the Shadow Proclamation's identifier on the right of its torpedo shaped trunk. The rocket swayed towards the Time Lord then turned upright and took off in front of the squatting figure.

The Doctor watched the hologram on which his former faces changed: young ones, old ones, crabbed, cheery, fighter, thinker and comedian ones. Like every one of them would be a separate one.

_The software is the same, the wrapper is changing._

He thought about his companions and friends he left behind.

The Shadow Architect (who was standing on the dais) almost finished listing the Doctor's faults. Most of them seemed to be heroic for most people but the Time Lord knew that he's guilty.

"So, Doctor, can you say something by the way of excuse?"

The man looked up, lifted his left eyebrow then looked behind and shrugged.

"I have to list that how limited the people were in that era? Or that we were set a trap? That all of this is an accident? Do I have to list the regeneration energy's dangerous properties?"

There weren't anyone else in the room but the tall, pale humanoid woman, the twoJudoon guards and himself. The Doctor felt that he was looked at; probably his public take-down was being watched by a lot of people in the galaxy.

"The Shadow Proclamation makes it possible for you to talk in your own interest."

"I talk in the whole galaxy's interest," interrupted the Time Lord. "'I think that you also would lock me up. if I would say that I had nothing to do with it. Of course, I also would go behind bars if I would state that I grew wings, I had squamas and started to spit fire. But you would say call that rehabilitation instead of prison sentence. I don't deny that I'm the cause of the deaths of those people and I repent. I wouldn't wish for more, than an evidence which would show my naivety. But I was there, saw it first-hand and I can't prove my naivety."

He stepped forward and looked into the woman's eyes.

"There will be no tricks now, no sudden twists in the story. I just ask for one thing. Find the universe's deepest hole on the farthest planet and sink me in it! And forget me, for ever."

"These are your last word, Doctor?"

The Time Lord nodded.

"The universe can only be a better place without me," he said at last.

"Doctor, for your committed faults and to have no chance to commit newer ones, I sentence you on a lifer in the name of the planets who sign the Shadow Proclamation. The appeal does not lie. You will spend your sentence on the prison ship Serigala Jahat."

_A Time Lord lives for ten thousand years inaverage. Well,this will be long enough._

The Serigala Jahat swayed in space silently, away from every planet and star. There were four, rectangular shaped transport ships around it. The Shadow Proclamation's station had four main parts: a central part and some rounded prison blocks which had no windows. They were equally far from each other and whirling slowly. On one of its ends, a group of extension lines stared at the distant stars on which the station's staff could keep in touch with the Proclamation's centre.

More than two thousand prisoners spent their sentence on the prison ship currently. All of them were sentenced to a lifer, the station was set up for their kind. There was no extreme penalty nor release. No one escaped from the station since its installation. If they got an order from the prison's commander or his assistant could the transfer ships only leave their orbit or come nearer to the station, in case of emergency. The appointed commander's name was Harr Bhoyi.

The Doctor was placed into the first prison block's sixteenth cell and he lived there for about a month. The cell was simply furnished: there were two equal looking beds, a table for two people and two chairs. On the wall, above the little dispenser hole there was a bell which indicated the food's arrival with a whistle.

The Time Lord was surprised by the place's comfort, he expected worse in a prison. He wanted for nothing, the guards weren't aggressive with the prisoners unnecessarily. The strange, sudden calmness helped healing his post-regeneration amnesia. Not everything was perfect but sometimes he didn't wish for it. He felt that maybe it would be better if some things would sink into oblivion for ever.

Somewhere deep inside maybe he agreed with his sentence. He put his foot lots of times into the time's different points and lots of creatures could have stayed alive if he wouldn't have appeared. But this kind of agreement evaporated after the first week.

The prison life was ineffably boring.

It wasn't as if he would have looked for trouble, but he wouldn't have minded if the trouble would find him soon. He wished to do something but he couldn't be able to do that while sitting on an ergonomic solidlight chair and drinking alcohol.

Yes, during the time in the prison, he became addicted to alcohol. He could be served with some pálinkalike beverage on the station but he was completely okay with that.

He still had the bottle in his hand while he sat on the solidlight chair and rested his elbow on the table. The green opaque bottle softly sank into his palm. It was made with a technology which enabled it to simply fall into atoms under some force so the prisoners couldn't harm each other. The plates, the cutlery was made with similar methods like almost everything which the prisoners could move. He learnt his lesson bitterly when one time he slapped the bottle to the table with a force that the bottle became nothing between his fingers and the liquid squirted.

To keep himself occupied, he was thinking. He tried to list his long life's every detail. He didn't want to spend his whole life here. Neither of them. The lifer was a relatively long time from a Time Lord's point of view. He heard that it is impossible to escape from Serigala Jahat. But he wandered the universe enough not to believe in impossible. And if he dedicates himself to escaping, he wants to be in perfect state to that.

He rose the bottle to his lips and experienced with disgust that it's empty. Again. He stood up and pushed it back into the food dispenser hole where it disappeared with a flash. He needs to wait for the next meal to get another bottle. Or two.

He scrubbed his face over with his right hand to wipe the remaining pálinka from his moustache and beard. Since he moved in, he wasn't at the barber's. Somehow it was familiar that this incarnation of his wears a beard. Long hair and beard… Why not?

He walked to the cell's entry and rested his forehead on the solidlight "cell grid". The creators of the station really liked the solidlight technology. It was absolutely impenetrable except if the field's resonance wasn't perturbed somehow. With the sonic screwdriver he could be able to do that. But he didn't have a sonic screwdriver.

He scrubbed his sticky hand into his simple drab top and he still counted the minutes in his head. If he's right, his sector will be able to do free time activities soon. And as if on cue, there was an ear-splitting scream in the air and the lightwall disappeared. He swung quickly backwards to get back his balance and not to fall forward, onto his face. He shook himself and stepped out of the cell's door. Around him, the inhabitants streamed out of the forty-nine other cells. Most of them were aliens from several species but he saw humans among them. As he could guess, they were somewhere after the 60th century, the humanity defiled the universe and could exploit their own intergalactic criminals.

According to precedent, he made his way to the prison floor's library. He wasn't interested in holomovies and he didn't have the mood for exercising, either. The library will do.

He sidled between the slower prisoners on the arched corridor and avoided a Verdant's spiky tail, although he wasn't really hurrying. He had a couple of hours left before one of the six other cells of the first prison block had a go. The dull grey walls made him a bit disturbed but maybe it was their goal. He caught sight of a couple of black armour wearing Judoon guards who observed the rolling crowd. Pistols hung from their sides. Although they didn't serve any executions in the prison, they did for the guards' protection. The prisoners couldn't have any chance in an occasional rebellion. The prison was able to protect itself.

According to precedent, the library was almost deserted; reading wasn't a popular thing to do so he could enjoy the silence. He didn't have the mood for the noise and the crowd. So he clapped himself on the shoulder that he chose the right thing again.

The room which he stepped into didn't deserved to be called a library. There weren't any bookshelves which reached the ceiling. And there weren't any books, either. He sat down to a quiet table, turned on the monitor in front of him and started to select. He could browse in recorded stories in black and white and authors of lots of species but he looked into the human section instead. No matter how many lives he'd lived, he had an interest towards humans. They were so unusual that they deserved the attention.

So, what should he choose? Maybe something classic, for now. He read a lot during his life. Perhaps an Agatha Christie. Still in amnesia, he reminded himself. Maybe there's a story where he doesn't remember who's the killer.

It seems they have the novel After the Funeral. And how he thought it through he didn't remember this book so it will be perfect. He selected it from the list and approved his choice. However in this minute the system indicated a mistake. Someone just borrowed it.

He looked up from the monitor and looked theother prisoners up and down who sat in the room. He didn't have to contemplate so much because there barely were any people. A stout, beefy Hurrin laughed out loud occasionally (some kind of wit and humour could have ran on the databoard in his hands), so he couldn't do it. He saw another gaunt, blue-skinned alien, but he was already there when he arrived. However, behind the creature with three tables, a black-haired young woman took the datareader out from the holder a short time ago. She was a human at first sight so it seemed that she could borrow the book.

The Doctor, surprising himself, stood from the table and made his way to the woman. He really wanted to read this book. Otherwise, he could have left the thing as it was but he ached for the confrontation.

On his way, he took a look at the woman. Her hair brushed her shoulders but it was cut shorter on her left side and her hair was fixed behind her ear. She could be said pretty because of her chiselled features and small chin if her lips and bridge wouldn't be defaced by two wide scars. Her thin eyebrows jumped up and down during reading. She wore the prisoners' regular drab clothes.

"Excuse me," said the Doctor, when he reached the table.

The woman looked up from the databoard, lifted one of her eyebrow, then continued reading. She indeed read the Christie-novel.

"Hello," grinned the man, supressing his most charming smile. "I don't think you've heard me before," and took a chair from the table, sitting down.

"I've heard you perfectly," she replied, not looking up from the reader. "I just didn't care."

"It was a mistake. I just wanted to ask for that book you took from me."

"And? Isn't there another one?"

"There is. But I want to read this one."

For the first time, the woman lowered the reader a little and looked into the Doctor's eyes. She had friendly and warm brown eyes. They didn't fit to a criminal. But the Doctor knew that these naïve-looking criminals are the most dangerous ones.

"You're waiting for me to give it to you now?"

"Something like that, yes."

"And why would I do that?"

"You're new here, aren't you?" The Doctor scrubbed his nose. "Then it would be clear that there are wolf laws here."

"Oh, don't you say," the woman fluttered her lashes sarcastically. "And you are the big bad wolf? I saw a lot of tougher blokes than you."

"Didn't you hear about that the appearance can fool?"

"Yes, I did. Except in your case. You're as faint-hearted as you seem. I can't imagine how you could get here."

"Well, in fact, I caused a lot of deaths," the Time Lord's shoulders sank a bit.

"Yeah, I can imagine. You saved the material from the building of a spaceship, or what?"

"Not really."

The woman got bored of reading and put the datareader down in front of her onto the table, between the two of them. The fingers of her right hand still drummed on it.

"I truly don't care. What's your name?"

"Well, I'm…" The man stopped for a minute, he couldn't or didn't want to say 'the Doctor'. "I'm Smith. John Smith."

"Really? You want to feed me with the world's most antiquated name?"

"Deal with it! And your name is…"

"Noanna. And yes, I'm new. Are you pleased? If you get the book, will you leave me alone?"

"If you want me to."

"I want you to."

Noanna slipped the reader in front of the Time Lord and stood from the table. Her face showed mild disdain when she walked away. But before she left the room, she shouted back.

"The killer is Miss Gilchrist!"

The Doctor watched the woman with desperate eyes as she left with a triumphant smile on her face. His clenched his fists when he thought about the book's story. He really wanted to read it. But he has no reason to now. However, he decided that he takes a note of this Noanna. He didn't know anything about her but he felt that they will meet again.

Hours later when he walked back into his cell, he was welcomed by a strange surprise. A man sat on one of the beds.

When the Doctor stepped in, the other man stood up and started to walk up to him. He held his hand.

The Time Lord didn't react immediately but looked him up and down. He was half a head taller than himself. The Doctor needed to lift his head unsettlingly to look into the other man's eyes. Into cherry eyes. The man's look shone with intelligence and brutality. On his face (which was interspersed with bruises and spots) was a welcoming smile. His spiky black hair was going white in stripes. However, his arms were still muscled, the drab prison clothes strained on his wide chest. His look suddenly flustered as the Doctor still didn't accept his extended hand.

"I thought it was a habit," he said in a low voice. "I'm Spectros Nafo." He lowered his hand.

The Doctor's gaze wondered past the man, to the bed which he stood from.

"That's my bed."

Spectros turned back, confused.

"But no one slept in that for days."

"For a month," corrected the Doctor. "But it doesn't change the facts."

"Okay, don't have a problem with it."

Spectros sat onto the other bed and the Doctor in turn sat on the bed he said his own. Both of them weighted the other. The Time Lord chewed upon the question that why the other stepped out of his way this quickly. With his body's capabilities, he could easily beat the Doctor to a frazzle. It seemed that he had enough intelligence and ability to compromise, which meant that the Doctor needed to be careful with him. These kind of people are always more dangerous than a simple wrestler.

"What's your name?"

And he was also informal.

"John Smith."

"Are you human?"

"Something like that,"nodded the Doctor.

Since he was here, he never talked to anyone and if he did, they never asked his name. And now, he got to this point with two people one day. Strange.

"From the colonies?"

"Yes. And you're a Zhak, if I'm right."

Spectros nodded. Zhaks had a reputation as fearfulwarriors, their species were noble and aggressive in older times. They only stayed aggressive. So this man who sat opposite him, was an interesting phenomenon on every account. Too quiet for his kind.

"Great," moaned the Doctor. "I just wanted to know this. Good night!" For demonstration, he lay back in the bed then turned to the wall.

The Zhak blinked in confusion. The station's artificial day-night circle wasn't at the night yet. But since he didn't have anything better to do, he also lay on the bed.

Certainly, the Doctor didn't sleep. He didn't need to sleep, that's why he didn't use the bed. The wheels in his brain were clicking continually as he tried to place Noanna and Spectros into the pieces of a jigsaw which was made by himself. And in the midst of it, he counted back until the food's arrival before the artificial night when he can get the hoped pálinka.

They could pass the artificial night's middle when a huge noise shook the Doctor's sector. The Time Lord carefully sat up in bed whilst the Zhak woke with a shout, startled. The Doctor looked at him and he signalled him stay quiet with his index finger before his mouth.

He rose from the bed and stepped to the solidlight wall. Judoon guards lined up outside and Commander Harr Bhoyi marched before them. The sector's freshly turned on light shone on his grey wrinkled skin. His four black eyes jumped to and fro nervously as he quizzed one of the guards about the situation. His three-fingered hand snapped at the hair on his face when he listened to the Judoon. He then knitted his eyes together, wryly fixed his black uniform, turned and dashed away. He was followed by two Judoon guards with an antigravity sleigh and there was something big, wide and heavy on it, covered by a black sheet.

"What happened?" asked Spectros.

The Doctor called him for silence and listened to more. The guards still fussed about, escorted another prisoner but then everything became silent. They turned down the lights as well, the artificial night's status set back. The Time Lord stepped back from the solidlight wall, sighing heavily.

"I think they killed Grah," he said simply.

"Who?"

"A Verdant. He lived two cells from here, in the 14th. His cellmate was just escorted."

"Did you know him?"

"No. But I stepped on his tail, once. He promised me then that he'll tear my head off if I repeat this."

"As I know, Verdants' skin is almost impenetrable."

"I don't know", shrugged the Doctor. "But my head is out of harm's way."

He sat down onto the edge of the bed and cockled the prepared bottle. He was more and more disturbed by today's events. And somehow the drink wasn't that tasty.

As the lights turned on in the sector, life started up. Between the fifty cell's every tenant this was the most important topic. Then, when there was the time for the free time activities, they already chatted about the Verdant's murder.

The Doctor continually tried to listen. Maybe he'll hear something from a prisoner to help him solve the mystery. He knew so far that Grah died beyond the lightwall. The cell needed to be opened when the guards arrived. He saw for himself when the cellmate was taken that his clothes weren't full of orange bloodspots. There wasn't a drop. So the murderer wasn't him or he didn't use a weapon.

Supposedly one of the Judoon prisoners, who was in good acquaintanceship with one of the guards, heard that the Verdant didn't have any wounds on him. It gave countenance of the Doctor's theory that he wasn't killed with a weapon. However, the respective learnt that they don't hold him suspect, they only put him into another sector.

Different gossips and theories took wings within moments and everyone had speculations about it. The Doctor wanted to handle his own but it wasn't an easy job because no one could shut themselves up. He was under the necessity of leaving the library because it was the topic there as well. In his final aggravation, he sat into the holoprojection room to watch a Seronnian artist movie.

Unfortunately he wasn't alone in the room but his only company was a female Meor and the woman called Noanna who he got to know yesterday. Looking at how they parted the previous day, she won't talk to him. Perfect! And Meors only talk to their species, as everyone knows.

He sat down into the row in front of Noanna and left his mind to be washed clear by the artist movie's inept wearisomeness and to be able to concentrate to the mysterious murder. The woman behind him was so quiet that it arose in him that maybe she fell asleep. He wouldn't be surprised by that.

However, when he almost calmed down, Spectros appeared by the room's door.

"Ah, here you are!" He yelled happier than it needed to be. "So, what did you come to?"

"Nothing yet," muttered back the Time Lord angrily.

"How can they kill someone without any trail? Through the locked lightwall?"

"I don't know," said the Doctor with narrowing eyes.

Maybe it wasn't Spectros' continuous talking what disturbed him but the fact that he can't solve the mystery.

"Like anyone else," said Noanna behind them, sharply.

"What? What do you mean?" turned back the Doctor. "Isn't it the first case? How do you know that?"

"More news get outside the prison than into the inhabitants' ear. While I waited for my transfer, I heard two bosses talking about that three people died in the second block already, just like the Verdant. I was relieved, when they placed me in the first one. I was a bit sorry for the guy called Retsam whom we got his cell," here she nodded towards the Meor, "because he was placed into the second one."

"So we have a serial killer."

"Yes," nodded the Zhak, darkly.

"Who was killed by him, so far? What do we know about them? Do they have something in common?"

"You seriously think that the bosses shared this with me?" Noanna sent a withering look towards the Time Lord.

"Right," turned back the Doctor towards the artist movie.

Spectros fell silent on his right.

The Time Lord started to feel pressed, what he didn't feel in a long time. He had to solve this case, on every account. He has to escape, somehow. And as soon as possible, otherwise more deaths will occur.

He didn't suspect that he'll have luck that night.

When they turned down the lights again, stirring started in the 16th cell. The Doctor sat up in his bed. He only lay down again to rest to signal Spectros that he vindicates the bed. On the other bed, the Zhak curled his left hand's ring finger downwards.

"What are you doing?" asked him the Time Lord.

Spectros shook and froze. Apparently, he didn't expect that he'll be watched. He looked at his prison mate with hazy eyes.

"I won't stay here," he said at last.

"You don't want to lose your life?"

"Who does? But you can come with me, if you want," he added grudgingly.

The Doctor was already on his feet.

"Okay, we go out. But we won't escape! We'll find the killer!"

The Zhak frowned but didn't say anything. Instead, he continued what he couldn't finish. The Doctor watched as Spectros removed his ring finger which made visible a healed scar from a long time ago.

The Zhak held the synthetic finger between his right thumb and index finger then broke it at the cartilage. The synthetic skin evaporated from the device, cracked at its joints, then turned itself and so it had the shape of a pen. Its end shone with a violet light.

"A sonic pen?" the Doctor was taken aback.

"Yes," nodded Spectros. "I didn't plan on spending my time here. So I arrived well-prepared. I had a technician friend and he arranged it before they took me. It was inactive so far so no one could detect it."

"Marvellous!" said the Time Lord appreciatively.

"Is it?" grinned the Zhak. "Then let's go!"

He stepped to the lightwall and started to buzz. They were waiting for several minutes until the pen finished its task.

"My sonic could've opened it already."

"Is your sonic here?" replied Spectros irritably. "Then shut up!"

After some sweat drop and reeled impatience, the lightwall vibrated and disappeared at last. Spectros carefully held out his hand not to bump into an invisible obstacle but the pen worked perfectly.

They stepped out into the corridor slowly.

"If I survive this, how do you want to hotfoot after the killer, after all?" Spectros looked at the Doctor.

"Well, we should get to the commander's cubicle. I'm sure he wrote a report if the outer federal soldiers could learn about it."

"So, we go to the axle?"

"Not yet. First, we go for Noanna! I think she knows more than what she told us. That Retsam could live somewhere in the sector's other end because I can't remember that we've met before."

As they walked in front of the different cells, they tried to make the least noises possible. If other prisoners notice them, they also would want to escape and if they don't help them, they can inform the guards with their riot. And if they would let them go, which was disagreed by the Doctor's moral sense, then they would lose time.

Eventually Spectros found the cell in which he saw Noanna, lying in bed. They pressed themselves to the wall not to spook the woman if she would see them. The Zhak was faster this time because the pen needed to repeat an earlier action. As the wall disappeared, Spectros stepped into the room.

As he stepped in, a dark shadow took him to the ground. Noanna jumped out her bed, panicking and searched for the danger's source with her eyes.

"Stop! We don't want trouble!" the Doctor rushed into the cell.

"M'Thira, enough!" said Noanna.

In front of them, a big wildcat jumped down from Spectros who, within moments, transformed back into the Meor they saw in the projection room. As her claws drew back, she set back her short whiskers and hair.

"I believed it was the killer," she said in a high, mewing voice.

"You did it right!" smiled Noanna then turned to the newcomers. "What do you want?"

"To find the killer," replied the Doctor simply. "And I think you know something about all this, what we don't."

"I told you what I knew." The woman fell silent. "But this thing sounds interesting so I go."

The Doctor started to grin.

"Keep your teeth in your mouth!" threw him Noanna while she stepped out into the corridor.

The Time Lord in the midst of it helped up the Zhak who tried to mask his pain. His drab top was hanging down from him in odds and ends. There was a tattoo in the shape of a winged skull on his chest. The Doctor saw it and frowned, marvelling. Spectros rehashed himself and looked for bleeding injuries. He was lucky because M'Thira's claws wasn't lost in his flesh anywhere.

During all this, the Meor climbed back onto the bed and murmured after them.

"Idiots."

On the corridor, their group of three stalked silently towards the central axle where the turbolifts had been. Strangely, they didn't bump into Judoon soldiers only into a couple who to their luck went on the way to the belvedere so they didn't see the group.

They broke open the turbolift and set the commander's level with the help of the sonic pen.

"And what'll be the plan, if we get onto the level?" asked Noanna as the lift's door closed.

The lift sped through the axle's tunnels with enormous speed.

"We'll catch the commander," started to explain Spectros, "then Smith will find out who's the killer, I think. We'll catch them then leave a post-it for the Proclamation and ask Bhoyi very nicely to call here one of the transfer ships for us."

"And we hope he won't 'harr-m' us," added the Doctor.

His two partner looked at him and rolled their eyes, almost in unison.

"You don't have any sense of humour…"

The lift stopped with a jolt and its doors opened. They were greeted by two doors.

"One of them, probably, the comm room, the other is the commander's accommodation. But which one?" the Doctor was thinking loudly.

Noanna stepped to the door on the right and pushed it open.

Inside, the commander jumped up from the front of his computer, panicking.

"What the…?" This was all he could say before Noanna jumped onto him and plastered her hand to his mouth. Bhoyi fainted moments later.

"Not bad!" gaped Spectros.

The Doctor hummed appreciatively then he again gave himself a pat on the back in his head because he went for the woman.

"This is the problem with Yagmas. They've too little lungs, they don't get a little air and this is it."

The room was almost as puritan as the prison cells. The commander had almost the same bed as the ones the prisoners are sleeping in. There was also a desk with the computer and a bigger cupboard, probably for the commander's personal stuff. The Time Lord started to have the feeling that the Serigala Jahat maybe wasn't built as a prison.

The Doctor hurried to the computer while Noanna and Spectros took care of the commander not to wake up before time. The Time Lord ran over the post and when he made sure that the commander truly reported the deaths, he started to search for the coroner's examinations.

Beyond the Verdant, a human, a Manot and a Sontaran became the victim of the mysterious serial killer. All of them lived in the second block, but in different sectors. They didn't have the same cellmate and either of them were at the same time and the same place. The method of their deaths was the same: they simply stopped living. There weren't any wounds visible but no poisons, no parasites or no nanomachines were detected.

However, they had a connection.

"Spectros," said the Doctor, turning his back, "look into the comm room as well, not to have Bhoyi's assistant to see us!"

"Of course," nodded the Zhak, grinning then going out of the room.

"Noanna, look at this!"

The woman stepped next to the Time Lord to look at the pictures they took at the autopsy. She also realised what the Doctor spotted.

There was the same tattoo on the human's and the Marot's scapula, the Sontaran's nape and the Verdant's back shell as an engraving. Like the one which decorated Spectros' chest.

The Doctor suspiciously looked for the newcomers and the transferred's list. Twenty-one transfer was documented but the system told him that twenty-two transfers happened.

Noanna jumped to the cupboard which had the commander's personal things in it and started to dig into it until her hand found a ministerial pistol. The tiny weapon wasn't that heavy but it was able to fire off a lethal shot.

"There's no one there," called the Zhak's voice.

As he stepped into the room, the smile faltered from his face when he stood face to face with the levelled pistol's barrel.

"Hey'! Put down the gun!" the sentence tore out of him. "What's going on here?"

"We could ask the same from you," snarled Noanna.

Spectros, for his safety, put his hands up but his gaze slipped to the Doctor.

"Smith, what's this?"

Noanna didn't let the Doctor speak.

"You're the member of the same group. The Cranaits. They sent you to make the others quiet, didn't they?"

The Doctor thought about what the woman had said. It was right that they belonged to the same group. That Spectros became his cellmate when the Verdant was killed. And Spectros could leave the cell with the sonic pen anytime, get to the victim and come back. If one of his fingers is false, what else could it be? Maybe he really could kill without a trace. But something wasn't right.

"Then he wouldn't have let us come with him. Maybe not me. And he would have put me away and I could rename myself to John Doe."

Noanna huffed, signalling that she didn't appreciate the humour. But she lowered the gun at last at the Doctor's cue.

"But you could tell us something, Spectros!" she said, pouting.

"Okay, right. Listen. I truly belong to the Cranaitas. But I'm not a bravo. Those killings were challenges, messages, sent to me. Grah was a useful member. I couldn't have killed him. Neither the others."

"So, you're…" Noanna said quietly.

"Their leader, Teng Korak. And I came to avenge them."

"And you know something we don't?" asked the Doctor, noting the thing which was said.

"No more than you. I need the database to find it out. I'm sure that one of the prisoners here was the culprit. Someone who has a bone to pick with me."

The Doctor sat back to the computer then started to think. He thought over the things that were at his service again and again. The Zhak watched the screen above his shoulder, Noanna stood two steps behind him. The Doctor was sure that the woman would be able to shoot the gang leader on the back anytime. He felt her nervousness.

"Have you heard about telepaths, Smith?" Teng broke the silence.

"Mm-hmm," nodded the Doctor.

"Is a telepathic able to kill with his thoughts?"

"How wouldn't he?" answered Noanna. "But it's out of the question that they could have locked one in here."

"Maybe not," the Time Lord raised his hand. "The third block is for prisoners with special needs."

"He may be locked in there?"

"Maybe he was sedated or his abilities were blocked somehow. But the blocking ceased. As he became stronger, his conciousness' range widened. That's why he killed the Cranaitas in the second block first. Then, when he reached the first block, he also started to kill there."

"So, whoever it is, was fumbling with my head?" the Zhak puckered up his lips, his red eyes narrowing.

"And the truly challenged you. He could have finished you off, just like the Verdant. I think you're right, he'd like to meet you." The Doctor hummed intensely. "And I found three interesting items on the prisoner list."

"What are they?"

"It's a surprise," grinned the Time Lord.

"So we go to the third block?" asked Noanna sullenly.

"Yes."

As the turbolift sped to the third block, the Doctor felt that both his partners are nervous. At the same time, he experienced some strange satisfaction from the two. He himself didn't know what to feel. The mystery went nearer to its solution, he should also feel relief. However, a thought nestled itself into his mind's deepest part. The thought that in the lift they get closer to their deaths.

When the lift stopped, all of them carefully stepped out of it. Least prisoners were kept in this block, in the most censorious conditions. Instead of the upper level's grey palette, dark, almost dull walls greeted them here. The lights also seemed powerless.

The Doctor memorised in the commander's room, where those interesting prisoners are. He decided that they go to the least interesting first.

As they reached the cell, they had to see that the cell didn't have the regular solidlight door but a strong steel sheet which could be opened mechanically. As they went in, they noticed that the door's inside is a reflecting surface. At the end of the cell, there was a Weeping Angel chained to the wall. The creature hung wearily, only its chains kept it standing. Its wings slope onto it like a veil.

"He's my bodyguard…" Teng said quietly, almost sadly, " he was," he added.

One of the stone creature's wings really had the Cranaitas' symbol engraved on it.

"If I suspect correctly," the Zhak continued, "he was the first who my challenger finished off. Am I right?"

"Yes," approved the Doctor.

"You know where he is, don't you? He's in your interesting three, I know. Take me to him! I don't care about the other," shouted Teng.

The Doctor didn't say anything. He didn't think that he can say anything helpful in the current situation. Instead, he turned from the Angel's lair and started to go to the culprit's direction, in the wake of a snarling Zhak and Noanna who held the pistol tightly.

The cell's door, which they reached, was lined with two pillar which burnt with red lights.

"Psychic blockers," said Noanna.

"Yes," approved the Time Lord. "I think he's beyond these, who you're looking for Spectros. Or Teng. However you like. If you'd look at them with the pen, you would experience that something became broken in them. And if they seem to be working, they no longer do their jobs."

"Stand aside!" snarled Teng.

He stepped in front of the door with the pen which opened soon. The weak light outside lit a huge mass which seemed to be some fur coat heap on top of each other, at first sight. But when they stepped closer, a pair of brown shiny eyes speared up to them from under the fur. The heap started to move and reared itself up slowly. It was taller than Teng with 1.5 times of the leader's height who gazed at the creature in front of him, incredulously.

The creature had enormous palms in which all of their heads could fit into, in its long, drawn jaw were sharp fangs. Its flat nose twitched as it sniffed the air.

"Teng Korak," its rich voice reverberated in the seemingly tiny cell.

"What do you want from me?" yelled at him Teng.

"You don't remember me. You don't know, who I am. You don't know, what I am. In truth, it never interested you. Your gang ravaged my village to the ground and burnt my family alive."

"And now you took mine."

The tall creature nodded.

"Yes. I'm Griss Mori. This is the name I will chisel onto your grave!"

Mori swung towards Teng and took him to the ground almost immediately. The Zhak tried to distend against him but he had no chance against the martinet. After moments, Mori had Teng's neck in his fist, then lifted him up.

Teng's legs teetered wildly, this hands tried to flex the furred paw down from his neck. His eyes became wider with the effort.

"Let him go!" shouted the Doctor.

"Why?" Mori turned to him, paying no attention to the Zhak's efforts. "Who's he to you?"

"No one."

"Then there's no reason for me to listen to you. My revenge is fulfilled, my family's soul finds resignation." At this moment, he snapped Teng's throat, his body slacked. "Go!"

He pointed to the exit with his other paw.

"Come on, Smith, let's go!" Noanna turned on her heels, still discrediting a little. "The case is closed."

The Doctor stepped to the Zhak's corpse and expanded the sonic pen from between his fingers. Mori watched, growling, as the Time Lord left the cell and locked back its door. The creature lowered itself down and huddled itself up.

"You left him die," told him Noanna outside.

"Yes, I did. He was right, he wasn't any one of mine. Neither was my friend. He was a criminal."

"Where are you heading now?" asked Noanna with rounded eyes when the Doctor strayed from the way heading towards the axle.

"I told you that I've found three interesting things."

There were similar pillars in front of the last cell as the ones before Mori's but there lit with a blue light. The Doctor opened the cell door and a wide smile spread onto his face as he stepped in.

In the middle of the cell, there was the TARDIS.

He stepped to his beloved box, Noanna followed.

"Why did they lock up a box?"

"It's not a box, it's a living being. Living's right behove her as well. The Shadow Proclamation also knows this. Come on, let's escape from here!"

He opened the box's door but when he turned back, he met with Noanna's flickering eyes and her gun's barrel which was ready for shooting.

"You won't go anywhere, Doctor."

The weapon fired.

The Doctor stood on a weakly lit corridor with two Judoons. Although he was already transferred from the Serigala Jahat two days ago, he was still in his prison clothes. At least he could have gotten back those which he wore when he regenerated and were arrested in.

Renegotiation is rare at the Shadow Proclamation, but he was sure that it happens now. He didn't know yet, what would be the judgement. Maybe he will be sentenced to death because he tried to escape. Or worse, he'll be given back to the Time Lords.

The door slowly opened in front of him, one of the Judoons signalled with a push that he needs to go ahead. The room was as frigid and dark as last time, a month ago. The guards pegged down behind him until he stepped forward, into an appointed circle.

Opposite him, on the lectern, the Shadow Architect stood. Her black chiton softly hung down to the lectern's flooring, her skin seemed whiter from the offset. Her long fingers drummed on the loft, her eyes were trained on the Doctor.

"Doctor," she started. "I decided that I think your case again. Although because of your earlier sins I maintain my judgement, release you with consultative proposition."

"Thank you!" the man started to grin then turned back and sent some smiles to the Judoons.

"Wait a minute!" the Architect raised her hand. "You will get back your time machine and equipment we took from you. However, we bespeak a watcher to your side who will continually inform me about your activity. If you try to hold up their reports by any means or leave them behind somewhere, you will have to face penalty immediately. Am I clear?"

"Completely, Ma'am!" the Doctor didn't stop grinning.

In his mind, he was already dancing at the TARDIS' console.

The door opened behind him and he turned to face the newcomer. He remained open-mouthed.

Noanna walked through the door.

The woman's face was more beautiful than in the prison and there weren't any scars nor wounds. Her sometime lovely and brown eyes were now blue, shining coldly and sharply. Her eyes' outskirts were lined out with black and her hair sparkled brightly. She wore an elegant, tight uniform and there was a gun on her belt.

She had a bag in her left hand which was thrown in front of the Doctor's legs when she got to him. She straightened up and looked into his eyes.

"Here's everything that got into the Proclamation's domain. If you're ready, we can leave!" Without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heels and left. The Doctor peeked back but the Shadow Architect was nowhere to be seen so he picked up the bag and hurried after the woman.

"So, Noanna, we will travel together from now on."

"Don't grin! Anything but that! And don't live yourself into this situation, this is only a job."

The Doctor nodded, noting the woman's rules. For now.

"You've changed, since the prison."

"Holoprojector," replied Noanna. "You said that appearance is not everything. No one knows it better than me."

"Of course. But you know, I'd had misgivings through all this time."

"Why, really? And what was that suspicious?"

"You've read crime. And you've started at the end, that's how you knew who the culprit was. So you were interested in the method of the solution and not in the perpetrator's identity."

"Until you didn't interrupt," answered the woman, pouting.

"Then, I apologise posteriorly."

Noanna, without an answer, stopped at a door and opened it in front of the Doctor.

"After you."

The man stepped in and the same gratifying emotion took over him what he felt when he got a glimpse of the TARDIS in the prison. The box rested peacefully, but he was sure that she was also glad to see him again. He stepped to the door and stroked it lovingly, then opened it.

"Come then, Noanna!" and he stepped in.

The woman followed him and the box's door closed.

The lamp on its top started to glow then the box, whining and stirring wind, became invisible, then was gone completely.


	2. Infi-mini: Moving In

**Author's note: Firstly, I forgot to title the first chapter. It was called ****_Fall of the Saint_****. I apologise.**

**Secondly, this one is a mini and there will be one mini chapter after a longer Infinity chapter and the credit for these minis go to G.R. Moss so only the translation is mine.**

**Finally, this mini's title is ****_Moving In_**

The TARDIS sped quietly in the whirling Time Vortex to her unknown direction. The Doctor, as he got back the booked box, immediately set off, only caring about going as further from the Serigala Jahat as it was possible. He needed to miss the time machine which counted as his home and he exploited every moment of their reunion. It was as if the box was glad that her owner came back, she obeyed dutifully and hummed quietly when the Time Lord started her.

On one of the long corridors of the time machine, four legs' thumping echoed. The bluish semi-darkness of the corridor seemingly flustered one of the two walkers. Noanna lifted her hand in front of her eyes nervously to shadow them from the strange rays. The Doctor observed his inevitable companion's reactions with a grin on his face which he couldn't rub away. He wasn't surprised on that the agent was completely untouched by the TARDIS' internal dimension, he didn't expect that she will be amazed on the general 'bigger on the inside' way but he was disturbed by the frigidness when she shrugged as she saw the time machine. However, he thought it was bizarre that the bright light seemingly troubled the woman's eyes. Maybe, he will set the hues of the console room a little darker for her. Maybe.

Noanna hurriedly skittered to keep step with the Doctor. She held a bag in her left hand which was brought on the time machine's board before the Shadow Proclamation gave the TARDIS back to the Doctor. The Proclamation's troops profusely surveyed the box and although they didn't reach their goal, they could make a blueprint for Noanna. She doubted its accuracy, knowing the box's special set up.

The hang of the Doctor's steps signalled that they were near to their destination. In the end, the man stopped in front of a door then pushed it open. He let Noanna go first with a wave and the woman stepped inside without notice. She was greeted by a relatively spacious room with butter-coloured walls, an old-fashioned, wide bed, a bedside table beside it and an Orthemon buffalo's unfolded skin on the wooden floor.

"Is everything this bright here?" Noanna puckered her lips.

"I'll do something about it," the Doctor shrugged than waved around. "This will be your room. If you find cigars somewhere, and you will, don't worry about it, Mac could leave them here."

"Mac? Your previous partner?"

"Yes. He caught that buffalo as well, on the Orthe. Boy, that is a real hunting!" The Doctor's eyes had a distant look for a moment.

"You give me the room of your former partner?"

"You're an agent, aren't you?" the man jolted back to reality. "I thought any place is good for you."

"Of course," Noanna furrowed her eyebrows. "Then, if you don't mind, I would unpack." She threw down the bag onto the bed's baize blanket.

"Yes, of course." The Time Lord turned out the door and folded it behind him. "You know where to find me," he winked back then was gone.

Noanna blew out the air from her lungs tiredly, she was annoyed by the man's rune. She was said that he was a hard case but maybe she underestimated him. She thought that she got to know him pretty much in those few days in the prison but she had to admit that she was mistaken. She unhooked her ministerial weapon from her belt and lay it down onto the bedside table. She overlooked the bed to estimate the distance between that and her weapon. Since she found it too large, she stepped next to the night stand and pushed it closer. She stepped back with a passing smile: like this, the gun will be near at hand if someone would come upon them. It wasn't likely but it was needed to be bargained for a chance. And she always bargained for a chance.

At this moment, an earsplitting buzz filled the room then the Doctor's voice could be heard from an unknown source.

"I would like you to feel yourself at home so I change the colour of the room a little."

Noanna knew that the man is still grinning. Only just he could stop doing that!

"I think you'd like something dark. This is peculiar to the ones from the Proclamation. Only the dark. Is black good? Or you'd like grey better? You're right, let's make it grey. And which shade of grey?"

The woman rolled her eyes but her breath caught for a moment as the butter-coloured wallpaper slowly became dark and changed its texture. The walls already reminded her more and more of the barracks' dark walls from long ago in which she grew up, rather than something of a mundane farmhouse. The long floor which was consisted of rods started to change as well until it became a sombre, dull surfaced steel grid. The room was lit up by a suspicious light instead of the brightness from a minute ago which came from lamps she couldn't see. The wall opposite the bed expanded and a box slipped out of it at hips' length with a switch on top and a built-in projector. A hologram table.

"Do you like this way? I can't see that from here. Perhaps, if you'd say something…"

"Perfect."

"Lovely. Then when you finish with unpacking, come to the console room. You can choose a bed. Until then, I will find out what to do with the buffalo."

The woman noted with joy that the speakers went silent. She pulled her bag to her and opened it. She took out a little bag. She shook it whereon it crackled. It was as if ants would be running about, the pack expanded, taking up the form of a black-grey jump-suit. As the builders of the nanotextile dress froze, Noanna smoothed it out nicely and lay it onto the bed. The dress was the Proclamation's own innovation for the agents, just like her. It can adapt to the most miscellaneous environmental changes, besides it inform its wearer about their biological status continuously. Considering that she doesn't know where they end up with the Doctor, this outfit seemed to be the best choice.

After this, a little pentagon, the holoprojector, turned up from the bag which she wore on the prison ship. It wasn't able to make a full body change but it could do a lot of tiny tots which was profusely enough lots of times to thwart others. The projector was followed by a few stupefying needles, a climbing disk, some patches from artificial leather, a hold-shield and a datastorer.

She opened the night stand's door to put her equipment away, however, several larger and smaller etuis dove out from it. These were probably that Mac's stuff. She put them onto the top of the cupboard nicely. She will tell the Doctor later to take care of them, not only just the buffalo's skin. She put her own tools to the places of the etuis, except the dress and the datastorer. Then she picked up the storer and strode to the hologram-table. She inserted it into one of the little slit whereon the table's built-in projector shone up. Within minutes, the Shadow Architect's hologram-face appeared in front of her. The woman's red gaze seemed scary through the gear's worse resolution, as well. But it was togating on every account.

"Agent," she said, "although I trusted you, I find it interesting that you are still on the board of the Doctor's time machine." Her lips spread into a smile but it seemed more like a snarl. "Do you have anything to report?"

"No, Ma'am. I just wanted to make sure that I really can keep in touch with the Proclamation."

"You did it right. Note something, never trust the Doctor! He won't trust you, either. Only a few people achieve what you do, don't fall on something like this. Your father would be proud."

"Of course," it slipped out of Noanna's mouth involuntarily.

"You said what I think you said, agent?"

"No, Ma'am," Noanna took herself out of it, quickly.

"I hope so. Not me nor your mission tolerate emotions. Continue with my information! You can sign off."

The holo-picture slowly vanished and Noanna let her shoulders fall forward, just a little. She didn't have a problem with facing her superiors but the Architect counted as an exception. There was something in those cinder red eyes from which she shivered. That's why she hated that Zhak in the prison, his eyes reminded her of the Architect. And that the woman was able to mention Noanna's father…

Noanna took a deep breath and let her pulse return to normal. Then she rubbed her eyes with her palm, blinked a couple of times and blew the air out. No emotions. There's no need for emotions.

She took the datastorer out of the hologram-table then she sank it into one of the dress' isometric pockets. She quickly breathed one or two then let a little adrenalin to spread through her system.

After that, she changed into the nanotextile jump-suit, folded her official uniform and prepared for the tasks in front of her.

This is only another mission.


	3. Let the monsters win today

**Author's note: For this chapter, the credit goes to Dexter Landlord for this chapter. And there's a character who (in the Hungarian version) had their words in capitals. So now, they have their sentences in bold letters (not to make them shout).**

**Enjoy! :)**

The Doctor and Noanna looked at each other like two cats when they meet accidentally. Neither of them knew what to say or do. The woman stood with her arms crossed while the Doctor stood at the other side of the counter and nibbled a shaddock, enjoying the austere taste in his mouth.

"So? Where are we going?" Noanna inquired.

"'We' nowhere," the Doctor waved her down. "I go, you follow then write your nice little report. Adventures don't really need to be found, though 'cause they find me in general. Let's just say that it's a little suspicious, if I think about it."

The TARDIS' spacetime brakes got to work, whining as the ship stepped out of the Time Vortex what the Time Lord couldn't place anywhere because he didn't choose a destination yet. In the end, the ship showed the signs of landing but the sensors, which were levelled at the outside, stayed deaf and blind. He stepped to the door, opening it widely and in the next moment, the fruit fell from his hand.

"This is marvellous!"

Missy smiled as she sipped at her hot tea then squinted towards her umbrella in the elegant salon's furthest corner.

"Don't even dream about it!" the Trickster grinned at her who took a seat at the other end of the table. "We both know that you wouldn't be able to get it."

"You don't think that you can keep me at bay for long, do you?" the woman smiled at him.

"Only as long as it needed," the other replied. "The only thing you have to do now is to enjoy the show."

The Knight mulled, maybe a little too deeply. They couldn't find him more boring thing to do than watching the Time Vortex but the penalty work, given its nature, was rarely an entertaining activity. Besides, it isn't a really safe activity to be at a stand with lowered timeshields, anchored to the Vortex's edge. He looked down at the cybernetic shielding which covered his body and was built by himself to work as his TARDIS' interface.

"TARDIS approaches," an artificially created feminine voice announced from his chest.

"Yes, I can see it," the Time Lord looked at the screens. "A Type 40. A true relic."

In the next moment the ship shook as the anchors unhitched and the Knight's five hundred started to rock, spinning.

"What the Skaro is happening here?!" the Time Lord yelled while he clenched the fence which hugged the console with full force. "Turn on the stabiliser and the shields immediately!"

"The shield is out of order because it disconnected from the main system. Installing in progress, please wait," the time machine's detached voice replied.

The Knight pushed himself away with full force to get at the emergency take-off's big red button (one of the few switches on the console) then hit it with his palm. The shaking and the noise stopped in a moment and the entrance door opened to the Knight's biggest surprise.

"Successful landing," the interface blattered in. "Location: unknown…"

The Doctor and the Knight stood face to face with each other from the door's two sides. Their time machines opened into each other.

"You did this? No! You?" they yelled at once.

"Doctor! I should have thought. No one uses a wreck like this today," the Knight looked over to the other's console room with uncovered disgust on his face.

"Don't insult my sweetheart!" the Doctor flared up.

"Just because you stole it, it isn't yours. They just didn't take it from you because it's almost completely worthless. There are Type 40es on the junkyard which are in much better state."

"And your type 500…" the Doctor twinkled over to the deep blue-coated console. "Impersonal and boring."

"'Please, don't insult me!'" a voice sounded from the Knight's armour. "'I could get off from a newer type with no fuss.'"

"You babbler little…" the Doctor leaned closer to the metallic black armour but Noanna cut him off.

"Gentlemen, am I not interrupting?"

"Now, as you brought it up," the Time Lord murmured and he planted his still shaddock-covered hand onto the Knight's shoulder, leaving a slightly huge smudge on it, "Knight, this is Noanna. The Shadow Proclamation imposed her into my neck because they don't trust me somehow. Noanna, let me introduce you the Knight who…"

"I know who he is," the woman stung in. "He isn't that huge troublemaker as you are but he's on the leaderboard. How does your new job taste?"

"I don't like it," the Knight pouted, partly because of the cynic remark and partly because of the wet patch on his shoulder.

"Next time, be more careful with the values which are committed to you! And besides, how can someone lose a hundred and fifty megaton battleship?"

"There's nothing special in it. Simply, there was a bad run of cards…"

"This Earl Grey was really divine," Missy spoke at last as the silky porcelain cup knocked to the saucer. "You haven't touched yours yet. Furthermore, you haven't told me yet, to what can I owe your visitation."

The Trickster looked down at the beverage in front of him then back to the woman.

"I don't drink and you know this. My purpose? Maybe I just want to assure that you don't have a say in the game. Maybe I'm just interested in your reaction."

"Let's go for a walk!" Missy suddenly stood up, flashing her bright denture.

The Doctor thoughtfully soniced over the entrance in which the opened door was created by the insides of the two TARDIS' doors.

"The portals to the outside somehow aligned," he said at last. "We are closed into the pocket universe."

The two Time Lords stood at their own time machines' consoles, running diagnostic programs but they didn't get much since according to the database, an occurrence like this didn't happen yet and according to the systems, between these categories of ships its supervention is physically impossible.

"There's no other option. We have to use the Slide, the Doctor broke the silence at last.

"The what?" the Knight stood uncomprehendingly whereof Noanna also looked at the Time Lord with a questioning look who thoughtfully scratched his beard.

"So much for your knowledge of your ship," the Doctor threw to him. "Into the TARDISes which are type 400 and up, they build in a 'backdoor' in every occasion. It isn't for the passengers to escape in case of emergency because Genghis Khan's hordes wouldn't be able to brake the outside casing, either. It is because if a sticky-fingered bugger would want to steal one, people could get to it directly from Gallifrey. Of course, this information isn't advertised by the bosses but you should know that."

"Accordingly, we can get home from here?" the Knight lifted his eyebrow.

"The hitch is that the systems can't identify where we are. It is a problem because for this action both sides' exact space-time coordinates are needed."

"So we can't know where this gate opens to," Noanna added what they all thought about.

"The other possibility would be," the Doctor continued, "that we connect the two ship's matrix with the aid of a third system which is compatible with both. Of course, we don't have something like this here and we could only make it if we would already be connected."

"For Skaro's sake!" the Knight added. "Stays the Slide."

It almost seemed to be hours as they notched the corridors for the TARDIS 500, going continually downwards. Clean, aerodynamic staircases followed each other. They passed opened entrances here and there which opened to huge rooms or far-reaching corridors. Following the interface's simple instructions they got to a dead-end and on its end, on the wall opposite them a disk hung downwards which had the same shade of the wall's colour. The Doctor aimed the sonic and turned it on. A moment later, the disk cracked, yielded then changed into a deeply emerging, bluishly revolting vortex.

"Ladies first," the Doctor waved towards the who-knows-where-it-goes vortex politely whereof Noanna looked deeply into his eyes then with a disdainful smile on her face, ran up and jumped.

The two Time Lords looked at each other, amazed.

"Wow!" the Knight shouted then threw himself after the amazon.

The Doctor waited a little, digging into his hair with his sweating palm. What had he not be given for a shot. He backed a little then ran up and, because he felt it completely appropriate, shouting the kamikaze pilots' everlasting 'banzai', jumped.

"And how do you like my world?" Missy looked at the creature walking next to her as they marched on the path which was margined with yew trees. "The Promise Land."

The Trickster impassively took notice of the landscape around them.

"This isn't heaven for me."

"But you aren't dead yet," the woman started to smile. "Where does that portal open?"

The Trickster in response started to grin, showing his teeth.

The vortex revolted behind the trio when they were lifted from the ground. Their hair and clothes were ripped by a wild wind for a short time then everything went silent. The gate closed and as it happened, the Knight collapsed like a rag doll.

"So?" Noanna looked questioningly at the Doctor.

"In justice, I thought that we end up by one of the TARDISes," he looked around but he could only see unperturbed natural environment wherever he looked.

They stood on a height and before it, a plainness lay which was locked down by a forest in the distance. He turned around once more in hope of finding some kind of artificial building or road then looked down at the Knight who lay on the ground next to them.

"Isn't it uncomfortable?"

"I hope you're having fun," the metal-covered Time Lord murmured. "The armour gets the energy from the ship even from several light years so it doesn't worth finding a source on this planet."

"'…ttension! The portal pla…'" the armour spoke up once more and completely stopped working in the end.

"The release is under my right arm," he continued.

The Doctor soon found the little bit sank-in fastener and as he turned it, the armour simply fell to pieces. The Knight now seemed a bit less 'knightly' in the fitting, elastic dress which he wore under the metal clothing.

The Doctor gazed over the area and recognised the unmistakeable pattern of artificially made electromagnetic waves with relief.

"We go that way!" he pointed at the direction of the most powerful signal's resource.

What seemed to be an untouched meadow from a distance, at a close range limned somehow else: they passed through seemingly ancient, grass and moss-covered huge junks, the trio made their way walking on those. On some places, half-buried tubes speared up from the ground, one of them provided a great nesting opportunity to a mouse-sized, brightly blue birdie which flied away seeing their approach and tweeting angrily.

"Battlefield," Noanna spoke, quietly.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed. "The only weird thing is that I'm receiving energy signals here as well."

This was the time when the ground shook under their feet the first time which were followed by stronger and more frequent vibrations.

"I think…" the Knight lifted his hand when something exploded from the ground with an extremely loud but dull bang. "Sprint to the Skaro from here!"

They didn't start an argument about this but ran away from the unknown danger. The Doctor, looking back, saw a partially but in a malformed way humanoid machine which reminded him to a steam-engine personally.

"Stop!" the Knight panted. "I think it doesn't follow us."

When they turned back, they surely knew that that thing didn't take a step towards them: it stood on the same point on which it appeared. But they didn't feel the running worthless because the monster was three time taller than the tallest of the three. The machinery watched them for a moment still unmoved then started after them amidst of an ear-spitting jarring and belching out smoke as it slowly levelled its cannon-sized gun which it kept in its right hand.

If they ran so far, they scurried as if their life depended on it. When another shot was heard, they threw them to the ground reflexively but it was worthless: the bullet was far from hitting them. Into the jarring a monstrous crash blended then everything went silent.

The Doctor turned onto his back to see what happened: the robot's gun-holding arm lay on the ground as its body stood silently. From that distance the Time Lord only saw some blue flashes around the machine which attacked it like a metal wasp.

"Let's go before that thing takes a fancy for some more biological dessert," Noanna stood up.

The Doctor agreed with this as well but became curious about the newcomer's identity. '_Local, metal-eating predator? The guard of the area? A warrior who hunts the surviving opponent, waiting for its next move?_' he thought. He was shaken up from his recollection with another bang as the ground exploded into the air a couple metres ahead of them. They froze from the shock, the shockwave and the dust (which covered everything) for a moment: from the chimney on its back, shooting smoke a malformed, stout monster rose up, hiding the afternoon sun. Rusty cogwheels, which were polluted by wet soil, rolled, creaking in its body. The monster looked down at them and swung its enormous fist when something flied over their heads: a bulkier panther-sized, blue robot which hit the golem accurately in the middle of its chest in response, the other staggered back and fell.

The Doctor involuntarily pulled the sonic from his pocket and directed it towards the fighting opponents when the giant caught its attacker and threw it far away. The sonic turned on and the machine froze, lying on its back, in a throwing position. In the midst of all this the blue contraption already headed backwards but it wasn't hurrying now: it came closer with almost graceful steps then straightened with a movement and continued its way.

With its only aurulent eye on its head, it looked at the frozen body first then at the Doctor.

"**There's no danger,**" the newcomer spoke up.

The Doctor didn't understand how he could understand the creature because the TARDIS isn't here to translate languages.

"And who the Zygon are you?" the Knight asked.

"And how can we understand each other?" the Doctor added.

"**Answer: Name: Darvvin. We understand each other because we speak the same language.**"

"A real genius!" the Knight laughed, relieved.

"Thanks for your help!" Noanna stepped forward. "I say it in the name of these two retarded as well."

Meanwhile the Doctor analysed the robot then took a little magnifier out and continued his movements, thinking about the "retarded" thing.

"Believe it or not, this is Time Lord-technology," he hummed. "Darvvin! How did you get here?"

"**No information…**"

"I see that you didn't expected this development," Missy thrust in.

"No, indeed, but I don't mind that it happened this way. If they die immediately, it isn't that entertaining." the Trickster shrugged.

As they got to the trees, it was almost completely dark. Only an alley spread here which lined the bank of the river there with an endless forest behind it. An island occupied the middle of the river, with a building complex on top of it which reminded them to a Shinto church. On the sky, the stars lit up one by one and the Doctor scoured these.

"According to the standing of the stars, we are on the north pole of the Arp 148 galaxy. Look," he pointed upwards, "two galaxies which are colliding very, very slowly! As the spiral-arms expand from the gravitational pull! Millions of stars which burst like grapes! Marvellous!"

"This is really interesting," the Knight yawned. "Will we go to the island?"

"Let's go there in the morning!" Noanna responded to the question which was asked from the Doctor, giving one glance to the 'miracle of the sky'. "It can be dangerous in the river at night."

At last, all of them lay below a tree, except Darvvin who stood frozen in a stiff posture nearby. The Doctor watched the machine for a long time. '_This is too improbable to be incidental as everything on this day. Something is not right here._'

Fog straddled the region in the morning, making wet whatever it touched. The Knight snivelled because of the cold then depicted in a couple of words that how he would use one or two brioches and a can of hot coffee and finally, as a windup, announced that he goes and unbends himself. Noanna woke almost relaxed, she already slept on more uncomfortable places than this during her training. She inhaled deeply from the fresh, auroral air and poked the still lying Doctor with the nose of one of her boots.

"I know, you're awake. The sooner we swim through the river, the sooner we get help."

The Doctor yawned and staggered to his feet to be able to stretch himself out but as he looked around, stopped.

"Where's Darvvin?"

They didn't have time to look for him, they had to leave. They took every clothes from their bodies and carrying them in their hands, the trio waded into the cool water which reached their chests. Luckily, the river wasn't too deep anywhere but the bumpy riverbed and the drifting profusely tried their stamina.

As they headed for the island, white-dressed figures appeared on the side and as the trio ambled out tiredly to the gravel, a white-headed old man stepped in front of them. The man wore the same caftan like the others except the gold-plated margin which only decorated his dress. Three lads stood next to him with nicely folded textiles.

"Welcome on the field of Rassilita! My name is Qwas," he spoke on a choked throaty but completely understandable Old High Gallifreyan. "I'm glad that you brought yourselves to come over, it couldn't be too comfortable sleeping below those trees. We willingly host you but only if you're wearing our white attire, the symbol of simplicity and cleanness."

"What is this 'attire'?" Noanna leaned to the Knight because she was trained out for everything but these libraries' dusty idiom wasn't included. She just spoke it as much as she heard here and there.

The Time Lord didn't make her worthy of a response except a sullen pout because he blamed her for not sleeping in bed.

After they got dressed, they were guided into a huge room. The white walls were covered with frescos on which wriggling, dragon-like creatures fought with those giant robots with which they already had luck to meet. There was a long table in the middle of the room, loaded with foods of every kind and chairs around it. The Knight didn't need telling twice, he hurried to the table and started to gobble. Noanna, paying attention to sedatives and poisons, waited a little and even after that, she ate from the foods the Knight had already tasted. The Doctor also had some luck: he found something of a fermented fruit juice which warmed him up pleasantly and something beside it which confusingly resembled to a pancake.

As they ate, the old man talked to them about the war with the beasts who hunted for humans to devour them and about the price of the victory: they used up every metal to build the machines and propel them (their uranium hearts make them live for centuries) but if the people would want to collect the remaining shavings, the dormant would kill them too because at the same time somehow they didn't only hunt for dragons but everything which moved. They became 'bloodthirsty', somehow.

"Of course," he added, "maybe they don't work now 'cause you arrived here without a fuss."

"We've met two!" the Knight spluttered. "And if your robot is not there, that Darvvin, maybe we don't come out of this alive."

"We don't have robots," the man protested.

"But you're speaking Gallifreyan, your species is probably a distant relative of ours. Moreover, that machinery is Time Lord-technology as well," the Doctor appended. "It would be really weird if it would be a coincidence."

"We've always spoke like this but our history became lost over time. And we don't have robots and that's it!" Qwas closed the debate.

In the next moment an agonising, strident sound loaded the space. Everyone jumped from their seats in fright.

"Seriously. Dragons?" Missy lifted one of her eyebrows.

"That's why I needed this world," the Trickster grinned. "The last dragons which eat people. The question is: who will die and who will stay alive?"

Everyone ran out of the buildings, the island filled up with shouting people. The gathered crowd screamed, pointed up to the sky and as the Doctor looked up, he got a glimpse of coiling, hovering, worm-like creatures overhead. And if that was not bad enough, from the distance the wind brought towards them noises of dull bangs: steamrobots woke up, one after the other from all directions, thin smoketrails were lifted overhead.

"Can we just go away from here immediately?" the Knight looked around with a worried expression, scratching his nape.

"Are you kidding?" the Doctor started to smile. "Only now the fun begins."

Noanna knew: if a war starts here, then they don't stand on the winning side. They can't trust in the army made by the locals. They were as much of an enemy to the machines as the creatures which came from nowhere. The only useful strategy could be if they rescue the innocents but the Doctor visibly didn't plan any actions like this.

"By the way," the Time Lord spoke as if he read her thoughts, "where could we run? Maybe we could hide in the forest but what is the good thing in that?"

"We wouldn't be living targets on this island which could be attacked easily from above," the woman told him. The suspicion became stronger in her that this man really is an irresponsible idiot.

The population didn't have any weapons. They didn't have any defences either because lots of years passed since anyone saw a dragon. They thought the creatures extinct a long time ago.

The shouting was broken by a distant shot and from the way of the forest a clearly shining bullet soared, pulling a thin smoke line with it. It was followed by more and more.

The dragons started to land while they avoided the pelting missiles until they didn't bump into one of the bullets, changing it into a whitely glowing light sphere.

"Hydrogen cells!" the Doctor shouted. "So that's how they're flying!"

The dragons quivered and aimed the coming attackers: they shot some kind of liquid out of their mouth and in its wake, a greyish steamcloud rose up.

A giant appeared in the distance, approaching with huge steps. One of the dragons swooped down on it so the trio could observe it fully, meanwhile the others started to make their way to the island's farthest end. The ones who didn't already jump into the water or escaped on one of their slim drifters.

The dragon's crimson, segmented body had the size of three articulated buses. The jet, firing from its car-sized, conical head, hit the opponent which immediately peeled orange rust and the grass burnt out below it within a second. In the next moment, the dragon met its end: it ran into a bullet and the dragon couldn't avoid it.

In the distance, the trees fell out one by one and the dragons shelved lower. The air was loaded with bullets and acid rays, almost creating a dome over their heads.

Noanna noticed another coming golem which didn't shot the sky but aimed for the boats on the water.

"Look!" she pointed at it.

The Doctor whipped out the sonic but he couldn't paralyse it and all he have achieved was that the gun's barrel was pointed at him.

"RunrunRUN!" the Doctor sputtered and taking both his partner's arms, started to run. "BANZAI!"

The gun fired behind them and the bullet, which barely evaded them, blasted a nearby building which was destroyed, spattering debris. Pained cries loaded the air.

Everyone threw themselves down but no more missiles arrived: the attacker slowly fell to its knees then plunged into the water with its face down and with a familiar figure on its back who ripped at its components.

"Darvvin!" the Doctor shouted. "And next to him! Look!"

An anthropomorphic but headless figure stood next to him: the Knight's armour.

"That's impossible!" the Knight yelled over the sound of the nearby shots. "What the Dalek is going on here?!"

Darvvin looked at them for a moment then scampered off on the side. The armour followed him and in the end, they were both gone in the bush. Only the noises of jarring and falling signalled their path.

The battle's power seemed to ease as the belligerents ebbed away. The rising smoke lines all faded at last but the sky emptied as well: only one creature wiggled above which got closer with storming speed and in the end, its huge body landed in front of the Doctor in the burnt grass.

Its tiny, black pupils on its pearl silver eyes looked deeply into the Doctor's soul, radiating endless sadness.

"'I am the last,'" a deep, cool voice told them in all of their heads. "'Kill me as well.'"

"And what did you expect?!" the Doctor yelled at it. "The people desperately built an unpredictable weapon against you which could destroy them as well because you devour them!"

"'We couldn't do anything else.'" the voice sounded again. "'We need organic calcium to survive but on this planet, every other being is mollusc. Would you sacrifice yourself to save the life of your enemy? We didn't do that. We didn't want to come here. Someone set a trap for us to use up our abilities. They just didn't expect that we aren't only stronger but smarter than they are. They poisoned us to not be able to rise above the stars. They forced us to eat the bodies of our deceased siblings, instead of theirs. Our noble and beautiful species ends with me. We only thought that we could go. We thought the newcomers can help us but it's too late. Let's finish all of it. Let the monsters win today!'"

The Doctor felt as if he was being scalded. He couldn't say a word from the pain which got to him by the psychic contact. His throat tightened as he glanced at his distant relatives and the huge creature.

"Bastards. Bloody bastards," the Knight whispered as the people slowly ventured abroad with murderous rage instead of fear in their eyes. They assailed the creature with every kind of tools and household objects in their hands, rattling and hitting it wherever they could. The white dresses changed to blood red.

"It doesn't matter. It is good like this," those brightly clear silver eyes radiated. "The promise land waits us."

Stinging tears piled up in the Doctor's eyes as he turned away and as he did so, he saw the waiting Darvvin, the Knight's armour and the two TARDISes behind them: the blue box and the silver cylinder.

"How did it happen?" the Knight was taken aback.

"**With the use of the interface, the synchronisation and the detachment took place,**" came the emotionless reply.

"'Correct phrasing.'" the armour reacted.

The Doctor couldn't look back but he knew that the sounds of wet cracks from behind his back will hunt him for a long time. He opened the TARDIS' door, giving way to the silently walking Noanna and looking at the Knight who stood by his ship with a stern expression. They said goodbye with a silent nod. Darvvin sneaked in like a filth cat but the Doctor felt it somehow natural. As if he always belonged here.

The console room of the TARDIS completely changed because of the synchronisation: everything glowed with a light blue light like the 500. Fenceless staircases ran towards unknown levels and the round things became smaller and lore longish. Below the console on the podium different routes opened which led into dizzying deepness. Lastly, there was the enormous Gallifreyan symbol which seemed to be observing him as the council's watching eye.

"Darvvin," the Doctor whispered. "Did you know about this? Did the dragons send you?"

"**The Dragonoids talked to me. They showed me everything and sent you a message, Time Lord Doctor.**"

"Really? And what was the message?"

"**They said: fear the friend. They said: watch the white.**"

The Trickster and Missy's eyes met again at last.

"You have to know something," the woman spoke as her smile became an evil grin. "I don't have my power in my umbrella," The Trickster felt as if he was hit by a hammer. "But in my VOICE!"

The Trickster lay in pain in front of the woman.

"You can only play this game because I allow you to. And now pack off! I have to welcome the new guests…"

_Prologue: Darvvin_

The TARDIS never created an automatic manipulational device before because she was a too old model for that. Still, she did everything for the success. A dark presentiment woke up in her when she discovered that stranger with the Doctor which overwrote every logic and made her to do something. 'He hurt him. No, he will,' flashed through the matrix and shook her every atom.

For a start, she destroyed a couple of rooms to get back some capacity then got to work: the architectural reconfiguring system's circuit glowed because of the voltage growth and started to flash. One of the 'pears' started to bloat as the holding tendril started to grow, stretching and pulsing until it reached the floor. The improvised womb reached the desired size, its growth stopped when the sheath soon started to break up, revealing its metally bluish content.

Meanwhile the forty looked for the appropriate name for her child. She searched for a name which was connected to evolution, more than itself motivating power: "Dar-error-in"

She knew the character, she could define it but whenever she tried to express it, she got an error message.

"Dar-error-in. Dar-error-in. Darrrvvvvvin. Darvvin." The TARDIS would lean back contently, if she could be able to. She always felt like this when she wanted to get above her manifactually calibrated limits in something. She whispered to her newborn through the invisible string of Artron energy: "Darvvin. Wake up."

What seemed to be only a pile of huddled gears at first, moved now. It moved away from the remains of the artificial amnion, teetering on four legs. It pulled a long, tail-like salient after itself which disconnected from the stem in this exact moment and disappeared in the machine's body.

As it stabilised, Darvvin's steps became more confident then he got on his feet with a sudden move and straightened. He listened to the next message, directing his only eye, which was on his cylindrical head, onto the ceiling. Then he spoke, giving forth his metallic, completely emotionless voice for the first time:

"**Yes, Mother...**"


	4. Infi-mini: That Ship

**Author's note: This mini is about the Knight and how he got his punishment.**

**_Infi-mini: That Ship_**

Sweating foreheads, flashing eyes, flat glances. Hysterically opening and narrowing pupils. Drumming fingers on tables, nervously twitching lips. Then bitter and angry sighs from everywhere.

Except one person.

The Knight exultantly exclaimed as he slowly swept the scattered tokens on the tabletop in front of him. He wiped his wet forehead with a grin, twirled his dark moustache and sipped at the water bottle which rested at his left hand. It was too hot for drinking alcohol. He licked his lips and looked his opponents up and down again.

Most of them were locals, miners from the Brotenil-asteroidbelt. Typically it was a community which almost no one knew about. An increasingly lagging human colony, far from everything. If he doesn't come this way with his carriage, he couldn't have noticed them. A solitary, dusty, sunburnt township on one of the biggest asteroids. It wasn't hard to dock with the huge ship he hauled. The streets were pestered with workers who were enveloped in grey rags. Families don't live on places like this. Strippable, embittered miners all the more.

As a Time Lord, he shouldn't be interested in wherewithal. He weren't interested that much. But the excitement of winning! That is a drug which he hardly gave up. There are pubs or casinos at every space stations, even on gravel piles like this one.

He looked for the most visited gambling den, swelled with excitement. He didn't want to have a go with the poor visitors of some kind of sleazy jook. He needed real opponents!

That's how he got here. Seven people sat around the table among him. Five of them from the miners but not from the lower stratums. Foremen, mining engineers, bursars. All rich, boastful, arrogant individual. It was written on all of their faces all along, on their disdainfully curved mouths. They felt themselves offended by that someone like the Knight wins against them. Of course, they didn't have more than centuries of experiences in gambling. He leaned back contentedly, crunching his neck. He looked over the table maliciously.

The seventh member of the table was dealing, the card-chips magically span between his fingers. The Knight watched his hands. He thought the man was cheating. It could be seen that the man wasn't from around these parts, he seemed to be a life-tried space-walker. Sweat shone on his stubble as well but he didn't pay attention to the hot weather, still wearing a sun-hat and a scarf around his neck. A fine-spun scarf. Whoever he was, he obviously earned a fine amount of money during his life. However, his face was stiff as if it was carved from stone.

He was the Real Opponent.

He introduced himself as the Huntsman. The Knight wasn't surprised that he used a simple alias like this. Presumably, he was a mercenary or a bounty Huntsman. And he wasn't a bad player, either.

The Huntsman stopped shuffling, the chips were knitted into piles of six in front of the players. One of the miners took his cards immediately but as he looked at them, the eager light faded from his eyes. He isn't an opponent any more. The others reached for their cards carefully, the Knight picked up his own chips as well. Two ozos, a mermon and three empty. A really strong start.

If someone would throw another ozo and he could pick it up, he would get into a better position, even into a winning position. The engineer looked around then preferred to throw his cards into the gaping hole in the middle of the table. A holographic screen glowed in front of the Knight which showed the six culled chips. Five empties and a kozik. Really bad luck. It wasn't surprising that he made a disappointed face.

The Huntsman lifted three chips from the talon and put them in front of the engineer. He could only get the half of the thrown cards. But the peaky face still indicated that he wasn't luckier this time, either.

The game went on, the players changed their cards from round to round, picked from the waste or exchanged chips between each other blindly. Soon, only three players stayed in the game: the Knight, the Huntsman and the richest foreman.

The others couldn't afford the bet which towered before them from credit piles. The Knight started to worry at this point that maybe the credit which he won so far will not be enough. The Huntsman could raise with more than he could. But the Knight won four times already, this would be the fifth. Five was his lucky number. He was in his fifth life now, his TARDIS was a type 500. He must win!

The foreman gave it up as well, one round later. The two remaining players sat face to face.

The Knight was frightened by the Huntsman's cutting gaze. He felt as his body bathed in cold sweat under his elastic clothing. His armour ,which contained the TARDIS' interface, whirred up as the built-in cooling system turned on. This side of the asteroid just turned towards the system's sun, the heat blazed onto them. He nervously glanced at the slowly steaming water but he didn't want to reach for it now. He didn't want to seem to be weak against his statue-stiffly sitting opponent.

He looked at the foreman's thrown cards and gladly discovered an ozo between them. For Skaro, what a luck! He had three of it right now, along with two empties and the mermon. The mermon worth more but if he changes it for that ozo then using the empty cards' multipliers he could win the game. And he steps off with his prize.

The Huntsman's hand swung as he added the half of his remaining credits to the bets but he didn't reach for the cards in the waste. The Knight's eyes widened. He didn't have anything to raise with. He reeled for a minute. He can't leave the victory to swim away on this. The solution came to his mind. A confident grin spread across his face. He made his first mistake.

"What would you say," he started slowly, "if I offer something else? There's a very pretty ship outside, it worth as much as the piled credits." The ship's transorter unit flashed in his hand which was raked up from one of the armour's gaps.

"Let it be," the Huntsman spoke on his brazen voice and the tranporter unit landed on the top of the creditpile. The second mistake.

The Knight, swelling with self-confidence, knocked on the touch screen of the drop whereupon the fourth ozo flied into his hand, throwing in the mermon instead. He got ready mentally to pack the credits then started to think about how he would use them. However, he didn't pay attention to the Huntsman as he pushed in his remaining credits and lifted from the waste.

The third mistake.

The Knight lay out his chips one by one, enjoying every moment of his victory. However, his grin faded immediately as he saw the Huntsman's predatory smile. He begun to suspect something bad. His opponent threw the card-chips onto the table with one movement. Four empties. And two mermons. The same mermon which he threw away previously. And the Huntsman now has more points than he does.

The blood started thumping in the Knight's ears as he thought about how much trouble he was in. He giggled nervously as the Huntsman reached for the prize. His prize.

However, he wasn't interested in the credits, only in the transporter unit. He just bantered away one of the world's most dangerous ships. He acted without thinking. He grabbed the little gadget and started to run. Fourth mistake.

As he ran, the Knight activated the tool. And nothing happened.

Within seconds, two large security guards appeared in front of him. They weren't humans as the locals, instead they reminded him of enormous, fat birds. And they were very strong. This fact was clarified because when he was caught, he could feel the grip of the guards' steel grip through his armour.

The Huntsman walked to him with measured steps and took the unit from his hand. As he hid it in one of the pockets of his long coat, the Knight noticed a signal jammer on the Huntsman's belt. Of course! How could he been this idiot! He now wanted to beat his head into the wall.

But he didn't have to do anything about it because the security guards did it for him with pleasure.

When he woke up, it was colder. He didn't know, how much time he was unconscious. He was sure in one thing: he has to get to his TARDIS as soon as he can and pass off to the Skaro. He was duped very nastily. Someone will pay for this more nastily. Of course, if he gets out of the asteroidbelt alive.

The streets were crowded now as well and he tried to hurry over them as imperceptibly as possible. As he got closer to the docks, hope blinked in him for one more moment but it faded right away. He couldn't see that ship anywhere.

A 150 megaton battleship! An experimental terminator! And he was able to lose it. If there's a full madness in the universe, then this is. Of course, it doesn't matter now.

He caught the sight of his TARDIS which currently rested in the form of an unipersonal asteroid-drill. The only problem was that he didn't see only the time machine.

The Shadow Proclamation's torpedo-shaped ship parked next to it. And gunmen swarmwed around it.

He jumped behind a few containers to find out what he should do next. He left all his credits in the casino so he can't even pay himself into a passenger flight. Maybe if the Proclamation's guards would give up waiting after some time... he just has to wait for that. He sneaks into the TARDIS and goodbye Brotenil! This thought of his was his fifth mistake.

He looked down at his armour. He didn't dare to activate the interface for fear of noticing it. But how good would be an environmental scan!

"Don't bother!" a shout came from the distance. "We know you're there! If maybe you could come closer..."

The Knight froze.

But for only a monent because he started to move towards the federals. The problem was that he didn't go voluntarily. The armour moved instead of him.

He got closer to the waiting black uniforms with every step. One of them held a tiny remote in his hand, on the shoulder-blade of his neighbour, a major's insignia paraded. They were humans. The one with the remote gave the tool to his superior then turned and marched into the TARDIS, along with three others. Into his TARDIS! How the Skaro?

"Welcome, Knight!" the major grinned at him. "Am I right? Nod, at least."

The Knight nodded reluctantly.

"Judoons are no longer in fashion?"

"They can't be sent everywhere," the uniformed shrugged. "You have to do with me. I'm Major Gulk. In the name of the Shadow Proclamation, I arrest you for losing the ZHK12 experimental warship which was entrusted to you. Could you please come with us voluntarily or I have to use this?" He shook the remote in his hand.

"You can't take me!" the Knight protested. "The Gallifrey Council decides upon me."

"We already made contact with them. They assign you to us with pleasure. At least they need to deal with one less Time Lord. So, will you come by yourself?"

"I will," the Knight sighed.

As he said it, the armour eased. He didn't understand this. These federals were able to control Time Lord-technology and they could break into a TARDIS without triggering any security measures. This was why he installed those defensive weapons?

He could run away but why? The federals had guns and he didn't want to regenerate just yet. However, number five didn't really make it. Gulk stepped next to him and activated the trigger on the armour which fell to the ground from the Knight in pieces. It was so humiliating!

Within moments, solid-light handcuffs shone on the Tiem Lord's wrists. The major pushed him forward then waved to two other soldiers to collect the armour's parts. The Knight cursed this unlucky day brokenly then glanced back to his TARDIS one last time before the dark stomach of the Shadow Proclamation's ship absorbed him.


End file.
